


dreamt you a kinder future

by Sixteenthdays



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Fix-It, Gen, In a way, Post-Doomsday on Dream SMP, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, characters will be tagged as they appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixteenthdays/pseuds/Sixteenthdays
Summary: The ravaged pit that used to be L’Manburg stretches out before them, absolute in its devastation, and George knows the question is inevitable but he still flinches, just a little, when Dream asks quietly, “What happened here?”George hesitates. Sapnap doesn’t. “You did.”The color drains out of Dream’s face. “I…what?”(Or: Dream from before anything wakes up after the end of everything, and finds a future that needs to be fixed.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 877





	1. nothing beside remains

Dream wakes up tasting ash, and his first thought is that he must be in the Nether. Which doesn’t make sense- everyone knows you don’t sleep in the Nether.

He’s usually not a slow riser, but for some reason, today waking up feels like hauling his mind through hot tar. It’s a good minute or so before he manages to drag his eyes open, glad that the mask shields them from the brightness of the midmorning sun, and look.

Before him is absolute devastation.

The earth is a hollowed-out crater, bombed down to bedrock, blasted-out ruins of buildings scattered among the wreckage. There are waterfalls trickling down over the broken rock, here and there, from where ponds and lakes and farms were caught up in whatever blast consumed this place. The air is full of smoke and ash, diffusing the sunlight into a golden haze.

He’s lying sprawled right by the lip of the chasm, and he scrambles back a few paces as soon as it registers, away from the steep drop. His heart is beating fast in his chest.

This is-

This is _Dream’s world_. He knows it like he knows his heartbeat, his head, his hands, could sense it around him long before he opened his eyes. His world, made for his friends to play in.

What _happened_ here?

Something was built here, that much is obvious by the multitude of ruins, the few intact buildings still visible in the distance past the crater’s lip. Something grand, and something someone wanted _gone._ He checks the coordinates in his head, but it doesn’t help. He doesn’t remember _anything_ being here. Certainly nothing on this scale.

Movement in the pit catches his eye, and he leans forward, still cautious of the drop. Someone is picking their way delicately around the sides of the pit, jumping from one broken foothold to the next, sifting through half-buried chests. They’re tall, the sharp whites and blacks of their clothes and hair muted by the ash settling out of the air.

Dream doesn’t know them, when he should know everyone on the server, and the unfamiliarity sinks uncomfortably in his stomach. But more importantly, they’re here scavenging, which means they must have at least an idea of what’s happened here.

“Hey!” he calls, waving down at the person to get their attention. “What-“

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence.

As soon as the person glances up and sees him, eyes blowing wide with recognition and what looks uncomfortably like it might be _fear_ , they’re gone. Dream blinks at the spot where they were for a moment, and then glances up just in time to catch a tail disappearing over the opposite lip of the crater. In the ashy silence, he can hear the sound of fleeing footsteps clearly.

…What?

“What?” he asks aloud, and the crater echoes his question back at him.

He has so many questions, and no idea where to find answers. Except-

He checks the online list, and lets out a sigh of relief for the first time today.

/ Dream whispered to Georgenotfound: hey  
/ Dream whispered to Georgenotfound: where are you?

* * *

“What the hell,” George says, frowning down at his phone.

“What?” Sapnap asks, glancing up from across the room.

“ _Dream’s_ messaging me.”

“ _What_ ,” Sapnap says, all at once on alert and on his feet and hurrying across the room to see the screen. “What does he want?”

“He didn’t say,” George shrugs, turning the phone so Sapnap can see the pair of messages, unanswered and waiting. “Just asked where I am.”

“What, doesn’t he know?”

“I thought he did.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, don’t tell him.”

“I _won’t._ ” George frowns down at the screen.

“Ask what he wants.”

“Yeah.”

/ Georgenotfound: what do you want

/ Dream: ???  
/ Dream: what the hell is WITH everyone today  
/ Dream: i just want to know what’s going on  
/ Dream: what happened?

Sapnap scowls. “What does he think he’s playing at? Gimme that,” he says, swiping the phone out of George’s hand and starting to type furiously.

“Or you could just use your own- okay.”

/ Georgenotfound: this is sapnap  
/ Georgenotfound: dream i don’t know what the fuck youre playing at but fuck off  
/ Georgenotfound: you got what you wanted, right?  
/ Georgenotfound: you got tommy’s stupid fucking discs and lmanburg is gone  
/ Georgenotfound: and thats all you care about, right  
/ Georgenotfound: go have your god complex somewhere else dude we’re done

/ Dream: WAIT  
/ Dream: sapnap wait  
/ Dream: please  
/ Dream: i honestly truly don’t know what you’re talking about  
/ Dream: can we call?

“Say yes,” George says.

“Why?”

“I mean, it can’t hurt, can it? And… I don’t know.” He shifts in place, frowning. “Why would he lie?”

“I mean, who fucking _knows_ what’s going on in his head these days,” Sapnap mutters, but types out a ‘ _fine_ ’ and sends it anyways.

Barely a moment later, the phone rings. George and Sapnap share an uncertain look before George takes the phone back and answers the call, putting it on speaker.

“Dream?”

“ _George!_ ” Dream’s voice comes down the line, and the desperation in that one word alone is enough to make them both hesitate. “ _Thank god. Listen-”_

Dream sounds uncertain. Dream sounds _scared_.

Dream _never_ sounds scared. Not anymore.

“ _I woke up_ ,” Dream says, speaking quickly, an edge of what might actually be panic in his voice. “ _Next to this huge crater. And I know this is my world but I haven’t seen anyone I recognize and I don’t know why you’re mad at me and I_ don’t know what happened.”

Neither of them answer, for a moment.

“Dream…” George says carefully. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

There’s a brief pause. “ _Uh… Tommy stole my sword for like, a day. Sam started building some new project. And we talked about how much bigger the server was gonna get._ ”

“Oh, shit,” Sapnap says, hushed.

George remembers that day. He remembers that conversation. That hadn’t been too long after Tommy and Tubbo joined, and they’d been wondering if the influx of new members might end up leading to drama.

(Ha. Even when you’re colorblind, hindsight is twenty-twenty.)

But that, that was-

“Dream,” Sapnap says slowly. “That was _ages_ ago.”

Dream doesn’t answer. George doesn’t blame him.

“We should- um.” George has to take a moment, close his eyes, because _what_. “We’ll… we’ll come find you. Are you still by L- by the crater?”

It takes a moment for Dream to reply. “ _I… yeah._ ”

“Okay,” George says. Sapnap is already moving to grab their swords. “Okay. Just… stay there. We’ll be right there.”

* * *

When they find Dream, sitting on the ledge and staring down at the wreckage that used to be a country, George’s first thought is that he looks _young_.

Which- doesn’t make sense, really. Even if this Dream _is_ somehow from the past, it can’t be more than a year of difference. He’s probably still the same age, even.

And yet, and yet, and yet, the contrast between this Dream and the one George doesn’t know anymore is _striking_.

This Dream has his mask shoved up onto his forehead, rather than covering his face completely as had become a constant at some point in the last few months. When had that happened? George thinks it was probably around the time Wilbur and the rest of the revolutionaries declared their independence, but he’s not sure; maybe it was when he shot Tommy, or maybe it was later.

He can’t pinpoint exactly, and it bothers him, the realization that he can’t remember when the last time he saw his best friend’s eyes was. The shift was so gradual that he didn’t even think about it until now, faced with Dream again, unmasked and young and _smiling_ , a little pained and small but _real_ , when he sees them.

All at once, any doubts George might have had are gone.

“Hi, guys,” Dream says. He sounds so relieved to see them that it _hurts_ , and Sapnap makes a noise like he’s been punched.

“Oh, _Dream,_ ” George says, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s him or Sapnap who moves first, but all at once they’re all hugging, graceless and clumsy on the debris-strewn rock, and it’s possibly the least comfortable place on the entire server for this but George really could not care less.

He might be crying, but he can’t bring himself to care about that, either. Because here’s something he’s really not ashamed to admit: he _missed_ Dream.

And he doesn’t even know exactly when he lost him.

It’s some time before they break apart, but they do eventually, George settling on one side of Dream and Sapnap on the other, just like it always was and always should be.

The ravaged pit that used to be L’Manburg stretches out before them, absolute in its devastation, and George knows the question is inevitable but he still flinches, just a little, when Dream asks quietly, “What happened here?”

George hesitates. Sapnap doesn’t. “You did.”

The color drains out of Dream’s face. “I… _what?_ ”

George sighs, takes over the explanation. “This place is- _was_ \- called L’Manburg. Wilbur and Tommy and some other people declared independence from the SMP, and we fought a war against them, and- a lot of things happened, and most of them don’t really matter. But in the end you wanted L’Manburg gone, and…” he trails off, waves a hand towards the wreckage.

“There were TNT dupers up there,” Sapnap says, pointing up at the obsidian framework still hanging in the sky like an ugly constellation. “And I think like… nine or ten withers, total. Plus Technoblade just murdering people left and right. We tried, but… we never stood a chance.”

Dream looks stricken. “You two were-?”

“Sapnap was there,” George says. “I wasn’t.”

He hadn’t seen the point. Hasn’t seen a point to much of anything, lately, if he’s honest. The whole server disintegrating into war and destruction and death, and he’d only ever wanted to just have fun with his friends.

“Oh,” Dream says, and then, the information clearly hitting him a few seconds late, “Wait, _Technoblade?_ ”

“Oh, yeah, he’s here,” Sapnap says. “Tommy and Wilbur recruited him for the second war. He helped you with the… you know.”

“The _second_ war?” Dream echoes. “How many were there?”

“Three?” George guesses. “Four?”

“Who even _knows_ at this point, honestly,” Sapnap says, frustration or bitterness or both in his voice. “You could ask everybody on the server and everyone would probably have a different count.”

“Too many,” George says.

“Yeah.”

Dream is quiet for a long moment.

“Is this why you didn’t want to hear from me?” he asks eventually. “Because…”

George frowns. “Not really,” he says, sees Sapnap nod in agreement in his peripheral vision. “We…”

He doesn’t even know how to start. _We fell apart, you_ broke _it, you broke_ us _, you left us behind, because at some point you started being a god and stopped being our friend._

“You made a choice,” he says, eventually. “You decided what was important to you, and it wasn’t us.”

This whole conversation feels surreal, in a way. It’s like he’s talking to his best friend’s ghost, saying all the things he hasn’t been able to say to the real Dream- the present Dream- _whoever_ , for months and months. He half wants to take him by the shoulders and shake him, say, _look, this is what happens, look, this is what you did_.

_Fix it._

But that’s not fair, is it? Because this Dream _hasn’t_ done any of that, not yet. He’s the version that’s still their friend, and still smiles and means it, and still just wants a world where his friends are free to explore and live and play, who hasn’t yet gone to horrifying lengths to keep it that way.

But, and this is important, because it’s something George has forgotten:

This is also the version of Dream that has yet to ever let him down.

“I don’t want this,” Dream says finally, and there’s a note in his voice that George recognizes. It’s the iron sort of resolution that shows when Dream has decided to do something impossible and see it through to the end, no matter how it hurts, and George never thought he’d be so happy to hear it.

He meets Sapnap’s eyes; Sapnap smiles, just a little, sharp and hopeful.

Dream says, “Let’s fix it.”

Like it’s easy.

And when Dream says it with such confidence, with that look in his eyes, George can almost believe it will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO EXCITED to share this fic, genuinely, i'm very proud of it and have been enjoying working on it very much. i'm guessing at an eventual five chapters for this and i have three of them already written, because this au has been living rent free in my head for i think almost a week now. 
> 
> shout out tsu for the original prompt, lena for the title, and sarah and lunai for the general wonderful enthusiasm. love u very much
> 
> the chapter titles are quotes from percy shelley's poem [ozymandias](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46565/ozymandias).
> 
> i'm on tumblr at @[sixteenth-days](https://sixteenth-days.tumblr.com/)!


	2. look upon your works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream had noticed immediately, of course, that George and Sapnap both look a little older, a little more weary, George’s hair longer and more unkempt, a scar peeking out of the collar of Sapnap’s shirt that wasn’t there before.
> 
> But that’s _nothing_ compared to _Tommy_.

“So,” Dream says, as they make their careful way around the lip of the crater. “where are we going?”

George and Sapnap, flanking him on either side, trade a glance behind his head. They’ve been doing a lot of that, he’s noticed, whenever he says or does certain things. It hurts, a little, to be so out of the loop like this, disconnected from the friends he’s never had trouble reading before.

He’s sure there’s still more they haven’t told him, and part of him wants to press. Another, more cowardly, insists that maybe he doesn’t want to know.

“Bad’s place, I think,” Sapnap says after a beat. “Of everybody on the server, he’s probably the one to ask about… whatever this is.”

“There’s Phil,” George suggests.

Sapnap frowns. “Yeah, but- he’s living at Techno’s, right?”

“Ah. Yeah,” George says with a wince. “Best not, then. Who knows if he’d even help, anyways, but Bad definitely will.”

“And besides,” Sapnap adds after a moment. He glances over at Dream, and Dream can see his eyes soften, just a little. “Bad’ll want to see him, too.”

They round a half-ruined hill, and find a house.

Or, well, ‘ _house_ ’ is generous. It’s a shack at best, built into the hillside and mostly made of dirt and cobble, cheap junk materials. There’s someone standing outside, back turned to them, shoring up the walls with more cobblestone- blond hair just long enough to be tied in a short ponytail, clothes ragged and soot-stained beneath battered armor, arms criss-crossed with scars.

Dream doesn’t recognize them, at first, despite a vague sense that he really should, but George and Sapnap clearly both do.

“Shit,” Sapnap mutters, as on his other side George visibly winces. Sapnap grabs Dream’s wrist, trying to pull him away, but Dream frowns, refuses to move, gives him a wordless glare demanding explanation.

This is still his world, no matter how badly it’s gone to hell, and the people in it are still his friends.

“Seriously, Dream,” George mutters. “We don’t want to-“

It’s too late. The person glances up at their voices, turns around, and- oh. Dream does know him, after all.

Dream had noticed immediately, of course, that George and Sapnap both look a little older, a little more weary, George’s hair longer and more unkempt, a scar peeking out of the collar of Sapnap’s shirt that wasn’t there before.

But that’s _nothing_ compared to _Tommy_.

Dream _knows_ Tommy. He just saw him yesterday. He knows him as a firebrand kid, loud and obnoxious and easy to laugh, fast to throw himself into chaos and trouble, always boiling over with some emotion or another. Almost always smiling. Loves his best friend, loves his brother.

George had said that this is only a year or so into the future (and god, how did everything go so wrong so _fast_ -) but right now more than ever, Dream feels like that can’t possibly be right, because Tommy looks so much _older_. His eyes are greyer than Dream remembers, and there’s an exhaustion in them that looks wrong there, a look of defeat that he was never meant to carry.

Tommy’s eyes land on Dream, and they widen in what is horribly and unmistakably _pure terror_. He pales, takes a lurching half-step back before his face all at once hardens, and between one moment and the next there’s a sword in his hand, gleaming purple with enchantments.

“ _You_ ,” he bites out, and the hatred in his voice is so intense that Dream actually steps back, jarred beyond words by how wrong that loathing sounds coming out of _Tommy’s_ mouth, Tommy who is always laughing and always fast to forgive and _what happened to him?_

(He has an awful, sickly sort of feeling that he already knows.)

Tommy charges, teeth gritted and sword drawn back to strike, and-

Here’s the thing. Under normal circumstances, Dream is pretty sure he could beat Tommy in a one-on-one duel without too much trouble, even now. A lot has changed, but he can’t imagine that has. But- for one, he’s unequipped, right now. He’d woken up with his inventory empty, and with everything that’s been happening, he hadn’t even thought to craft himself a quick sword and shield.

Even if he did have weapons, though, he’s honestly not sure if he could move. The cold fury in Tommy’s eyes cuts right down to his core, freezes him in place.

What happened? What _happened to Tommy?_

What did he _do?_

Sapnap catches the sword on his shield just a moment before it can cut clean through Dream’s neck. “ _Tommy, stop!_ ”

Tommy grits his teeth, falls back a step, scowling. His knuckles are white around the hilt of his sword, and he’s trembling, from fear or rage or both. “You’re _defending him? Still?_ You’re- _why?_ ”

Sapnap falters for a moment. “It’s not- he’s not-“

“I’m sorry,” Dream hears himself say, and all at once everything stops.

Tommy goes absolutely still. “…What?”

“I’m sorry,” Dream says again, because he can’t find any other words, and whatever’s been broken here, apologizing isn’t nearly enough to fix it and never will be, but it’s all that he can think to do.

Tommy looks like he’s been slapped, face gone pale beneath the soot smudged across his brow, staring at Dream like he has no idea who he’s looking at.

“You- you-“ he stammers, looking absolutely lost for a moment before the anger sets back in. “You- you’re _sorry?_ You think you can just- show up here after, after bombing L’Manburg to the ground, after everything you did to _me_ , and say you’re _sorry?_ ”

Tommy’s voice has gone all pitchy from panic or fury or both, sounding half-hysterical. “I don’t know- I don’t know what kind of _game_ you’re playing, but I’m _not_ falling for it, okay? Not again. _Never_ again!”

Sapnap had said almost exactly the same thing, Dream remembers dimly, during that first exchange over text. _I don’t know what you’re playing at_.

He’s always liked games. Maybe too much, even. But he never really thought he could become the kind of person who played with people’s lives.

And yet here’s Tommy, broken and furious and stripped down until he’s barely the person Dream remembers at all, saying _after everything you did to_ _me_ , and god, what did he _do?_

What did he _do?_

“Tommy,” George is saying. “He’s not- he doesn’t remember. He’s not the Dream who did all those things. He’s from months ago, he has no idea- look, just, look at him.”

Tommy turns his glare on George, though Dream doesn’t miss the way he still keeps a careful eye on Dream. “He’s- what, is that what he told you? You _believe_ that?” He laughs, and it’s so bitter he barely sounds like himself. “He lies! _All he does is lie!_ Tubbo thought he was his _friend. I_ thought he was my friend!”

And that hurts. It hurts.

Everyone in this world is his friend. That’s what he _made_ it for. So what- what-

He feels like a broken record, disc skipping in his head, _what did i do what did i do what did i do_ , and what’s really awful is he can see where it might have started, if he thinks harder than is comfortable about himself, how much he cares about his world and how frustrated he can get when things run out of his control-

But he can’t see how he could have ever fallen far enough to end up here.

They’re at a stalemate, of sorts- Dream frozen in something like horror, Tommy tense with fear and rage, Sapnap and George both with shields in hand, none of them willing to move- when behind Tommy, the door to the makeshift little hut creaks open. Someone steps out, carefully, wide-eyed and dark-haired, and unlike with Tommy the recognition is immediate, even as it makes rocks sink in Dream’s stomach.

“Tommy? What’s...”

Tubbo’s voice fades out as his eyes land on Dream. Dream doesn’t miss the way Tommy falls back a step and shifts to one side to cover him, shrugging a shield onto his free arm, as Tubbo steps forward.

“…Dream,” Tubbo says after a long beat, unsettlingly flat and with an awful note of cold politeness, and it’s just as wrong as the seething hatred in Tommy’s voice, if not worse. “What do you want.”

Before he can help himself, Dream says, voice coming out a little strangled, “What happened to your face?”

He immediately hates himself for asking it, because there’s a pattern here, that everything that’s been hurt and broken and wrecked is his doing, one way or another, but at the same time, he couldn’t _not_. The burn scars are impossible to miss, splattered like a starburst across Tubbo’s face, centered on one cheek like he’d tried and failed to duck away from whatever hurt him, stretching from his jaw to the bridge of his nose.

Tubbo looks almost surprised for a moment, automatically raising his hand to his face, fingers tracing the edge of the scars, before smiling a little, sad and rueful.

“If this is a joke, it’s really not very funny, Dream,” he says.

Tommy answers before Dream can, which is lucky, because he really doesn’t know what to say to that. “They’re saying he doesn’t _remember_ ,” he bites out, hostile stare not leaving Dream for a moment.

Tubbo blinks, looking taken aback, and glances at Dream, then Tommy, then back to Dream again. “What?”

“I _don’t_ ,” Dream says, and it sounds far more desperate and lost and out of control than he ever wants to be. “I _swear_ , I don’t- Sapnap and George told me the last things I remember are from _ages_ ago. I don’t- I don’t know anything about wars, or countries, or- what happened to the two of you, but I _want to fix it._ ”

Tubbo gives him a long, assessing look, utterly unreadable, and that’s jarring, too, coming from the kid he remembers as nothing but bright and kind and likable, always following in Tommy’s shadow- though that last point, at least, doesn’t seem to have changed, even here in the ruins of everything.

“Okay,” Tubbo says evenly, after an agonizing minute of silence. “I believe you.”

Tommy squawks, whips around to stare incredulously at his best friend. “ _What?_ There’s no- Tubbo, there’s _no way_. He’s _fucking_ with you. _Again!_ ”

Tubbo meets his stare without flinching. “Tommy, Dream was lying to me for _months_. I _know_ what it looks like.”

“How? How can you know?” Tommy demands, voice sharp and suspicious, jabbing his sword in Dream’s direction for emphasis. Sapnap tenses, ready for another attack, but it doesn’t come.

“You haven’t noticed?” Tubbo asks, gestures towards his face, and Dream’s eyes are drawn automatically back to the starburst scars again. “He never has his mask off when he lies, you know? His eyes give him away.”

Dream blinks.

That’s true. He wears it during fights for the same reason.

He never would’ve guessed _Tubbo_ would figure that out.

Tubbo turns back to Dream and George and Sapnap. “You said you want to fix this?” he asks. “ _Everything?_ ”

Dream nods once.

“How?”

George takes over answering, which is just as well, because Dream’s words are failing him. Tommy’s anger had at least had hints of familiarity, if only in a twisted sort of way, but he has _no idea_ what to do with Tubbo’s barbed-wire courtesy.

“We figured, if we can send him back to the time where he’s supposed to be,” George says, and his voice is calm but there’s a quiet note of hope there that almost hurts to hear. “If he does things right, this time, he might be able to fix all of this.”

“So we’re planning on heading to Bad’s,” Sapnap finishes. “Figured he’d probably be the person to ask about… you know, magic world bullshit.”

Tommy scoffs. “So we’re just _trusting Dream? Again?_ ” He shakes his head, hard. “How- you know, even if, even _if_ this is true, and even if it works, how do you know he won’t just _watch it all happen again_?”

Sapnap hesitates, and then says, “We don’t.”

Dream looks at him askance, but Sapnap doesn’t meet his eyes, staring straight ahead at Tommy instead as he continues. “But it’s a chance. And a chance is better than nothing.”

Tommy scowls, shifts from foot to foot, and finally sheathes his sword, folding his arms and glaring at Dream. “I hate this. I hate this _so_ much.”

Tubbo puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, restraint or reassurance or both, and glances over at them. “You should go,” he says.

George nods without arguing, starts to lead him and Sapnap away. Dream lags behind for a moment, a question that he still hasn’t gotten answered nagging at the back of his mind.

“Tubbo?” He hesitates, then says, “You didn’t say earlier, but- your face, was that- did _I_ -?”

Tubbo blinks, then laughs a little, shaking his head. “Oh! Oh, no. No, um- that was Technoblade. Fireworks. It wasn’t fun,” he says, and then, grinning a little like it’s some grim inside joke, “but it _was_ colorful.”

“Oh,” Dream says, a little awkwardly. “Good. Uh, I mean-“

“I get it,” Tubbo says. “It’s fine. Good luck, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dream says, and manages a smile. “Thanks.”

They go.

“If I see you again, Dream,” Tommy shouts after him, more of a promise than a threat, “I’m going to _fucking_ kill you!”

  


* * *

  


Dream waits until he’s certain they’re out of earshot before he asks, blunt and anxious, “What did I do to Tommy?”

_All he does is lie. I thought he was my friend._

He thinks Tommy’s words will probably be ringing in his ears for a long, long time.

Neither Sapnap nor George answer, for a long moment, before Sapnap sighs. “We don’t _know_.”

“It was so _stupid_ ,” George mutters, kicking at the ravaged road beneath their feet. “It was- he griefed my house, right? Which is against the server rules, right, whatever. And, I mean, it was a nice house! I spent a lot of time on it.”

Sapnap coughs and mutters something under his breath; George rolls his eyes behind his glasses and elbows him. “ _Anyways_ ,” he continues. “You got really angry, and then Tommy tried to threaten you, and that just made everything _way_ worse. You gave L’Manburg an ultimatum and told them to exile him, and- they did. And you went with to make sure he stayed gone. And that’s... pretty much all we know.”

“I stopped by his camp once, to see what was going on, mess with him a little, y’know,” Sapnap adds. “He was pretty fucked up. Living like shit, no good equipment. You were… I dunno, playing with him, I guess.”

There’s that word again. _Playing_. _I don’t know what kind of_ game _you’re playing, Dream_ -

“That lasted for about a month, I think. When he showed up in L’Manburg again, he was…” Sapnap sighs, gestures over his shoulder to where Tommy and Tubbo are long since out of sight. “Well. You saw. The only people who really know what happened that messed him up so badly are him and, well- you. Other you. _Fuck_ , this is weird.”

“It’s extremely weird,” George agrees, and then frowns and glances over at Dream, looking troubled. “That reminds me, though…”

“What?”

“The- other Dream. Current Dream. Our Dream.”

“Asshole Dream,” Sapnap volunteers.

“Yeah, him,” George agrees. “Do you think he’s, you know… still around? Somewhere in the world?”

He’s looking at Dream like Dream might know, but all he can do is shrug. “I still don’t even know how I _got_ here.”

Sapnap grimaces. “We really don’t know jack shit, huh?”

Dream’s never liked not knowing things. He’s always liked digging into mysteries, figuring out how things work so he can make them work for _him_. It’s one of those traits he never really took conscious note of until today, until seeing just what it would look like if he ever got bored and curious and cruel enough to start unravelling people instead of game mechanics.

“Nope,” he agrees.

“Oh, so nothing’s changed, then,” George says drily, and Dream snorts.

It’s not true; of course it isn’t. Absolutely everything has changed. But this hasn’t: the three of them, together against the world, bickering and bantering back and forth with no real clue what they’re doing but a determination to see it through to the end regardless.

Dream can’t imagine why any version of him would ever give this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!! i'm really glad people are enjoying this story so far! thanks for reading, please remember comments make the author's brain go brrrr and as always i can be found on tumblr at @sixteenth-days.


	3. a traveller from an antique land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enderman looks startled for a moment. “Oh- you don’t _remember_ me.” They pause, then snicker, bringing a hand to their mouth. “Sorry, that’s- that’s kind of funny. I know you don’t know why, but it is. I’m Ranboo.”

Someone is following them.

Or, some _thing_ , rather. Maybe. The footsteps don’t sound quite normal, and neither is the way they sporadically vanish completely for a brief few seconds at a time, but then, Dream’s not really someone who can make judgements on what exactly does and doesn’t count as human. That would be more than a little hypocritical.

In any case, though, he hasn’t survived this many manhunts through luck. He always knows when he’s being followed, and he knows someone’s been tailing them- tailing _him_ specifically, he’s pretty sure- ever since the crater.

“Hey, can you guys give me a minute?” he asks, looking off to the side of the roughly-trodden path. “I want to check something out.”

Sapnap and George give him near-identical incredulous looks. “ _Now?_ ” George says. “Why, what is it?”

Dream shrugs, noncommittal to hide the fact that he doesn’t actually know. “You know, just a thing.”

George shoves his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head, but he can’t seem to smother the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You really don’t change,” he mumbles, quiet enough that Dream wonders if he was meant to hear, before raising his voice back to normal. “Sapnap, do you have an extra sword or something to give him?”

Sapnap squints at Dream for a moment longer, then caves with a sigh, reaching into his inventory. “Do you one better,” he says, and pulls out an axe, tossing it underhand to Dream, who catches it easily. It’s iron, slightly heavier and not as deadly than the diamond and netherite he prefers; but it’s well-honed and sturdy, which is all he really needs, and the weight is reassuring in his hands.

“Thanks,” Dream says with a brief grin, hanging the axe at his hip. _Thank you for trusting me_ , he doesn’t specify, but he thinks they probably hear it anyways. “Be back in a minute.”

He ducks into the trees, readjusting his mask to cover his eyes as he goes, and whoever/whatever has been tracking them follows. So they _are_ following him. Good. If so, whatever it is, he should be the one to deal with it.

He walks until he judges they’re well out of sight of the road, then comes to a stop in a little clearing, picks a tree to lean against. “Hi,” he says to empty air. “What’s up?”

There’s a laugh, a little startled and nervous, and then a rustling of leaves, and a moment later an- enderman, Dream thinks?- pushes their way out of the bushes. The same person he caught a glimpse of earlier, at the bottom of the crater that used to be a country, he realizes.

Now that he can see them up close, they don’t really look like anything he’s seen before; they’re split down the middle, pitch black hair and skin on one side and bright white on the other. Their height alone would probably make them intimidating if they weren’t anxiously fiddling with their claws and ducking their head a little to avoid Dream’s gaze.

“Should’ve guessed,” they say, rubbing their neck sheepishly. “Of course you knew. I’d say I was sorry for following you, but, uh… I’m not, I think, given the circumstances.”

“No problem,” Dream says, tone easy but guard still up. “And you are…?”

The enderman looks startled for a moment. “Oh- you don’t _remember_ me.” They pause, then snicker, bringing a hand to their mouth. “Sorry, that’s- that’s kind of funny. I know you don’t know why, but it is. I’m Ranboo.”

“Dream.”

“Yeah, I, uh- I know.”

“So, Ranboo,” Dream says, letting himself relax slightly, the threat of a fight seeming more and more unlikely by the minute. “Why _were_ you following me?”

“Well- at first it was because I saw you were headed towards Tommy and Tubbo’s. They’re my- uh-“ Ranboo hesitates for a moment, stuttering a little, before settling on, “…I was worried. That you might hurt them, or something. Even though I don’t know what I would’ve- if I- um. Anyways. After that… I guess I was just curious.”

Dream frowns a little, tilting his head. “About what?”

Ranboo shrugs. “About you. I only joined the world a couple months ago. I never knew you like- this.”

“Like what?”

“You know.” Ranboo makes a vague gesture. “…Real. Human. Nice.”

And that- it’s not even an insult, but it sinks teeth in and _bites_.

There’s something that doesn’t make sense, though. “But- you’re in my world,” Dream says, genuinely puzzled. “Why would you be here if we weren’t friends?”

Ranboo tosses his hands up. “I- I _don’t_ know. I really don’t- I _still_ don’t even know why I got let in. I honestly- honestly, I think it’s probably just because you like laughing at me!”

There’s something shaky edging its way into his voice, something unstable, and Dream frowns, pushing his mask up off his face. “Hey, are you- okay?”

Ranboo laughs, a little jagged. “Oh, definitely not. Uh, actually, can you not- can you not, do that, please? I don’t do great with, um…” he trails off, waves a hand towards his eyes, and Dream doesn’t miss the tremors running down his fingers. Right- Enderman.

Dream averts his eyes, focusing on a knot of wood on the trunk of a nearby tree instead, and Ranboo audibly sighs in relief.

“Thanks,” he mutters after a moment, already sounding calmer, and then, after a longer pause, “You know, I’ve never seen your face before?”

Dream blinks, almost looking back at him before catching himself. “Really? Didn’t you say you’ve been here for months?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo says. “Never saw you with it off. I, uh, tried to picture sometimes what you might look like? But I could only ever think of that- _stupid_ smiley face.”

“Oh,” Dream says.

There’s another pause, then Ranboo says, more tentative, “Just now… you sounded like- you said you didn’t think I’d be here if I wasn’t your friend. Is that right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Dream drops down to sit in the grass, and after a heartbeat pause he sees Ranboo follow suit out of the corner of his eye. He reaches down, taking a handful of grass and running it through his fingers as he collects his thoughts. If he tips his head, he can see the code and light running through the tiny leaves like blood through veins.

He doesn’t peek behind the curtain often. When you don’t look at things like a human, it can be easy to forget what’s important; and besides, it makes his head hurt.

“I made this world for my friends,” he says, finally. “That’s what it’s for. That’s what it’s _always_ been for. It was only ever supposed to be a place where everyone could be happy together. I don’t… I look around this place, and I don’t know how it could’ve gone so _wrong_.”

He can see Ranboo looking at him in his peripheral vision- _staring_ at him, really, mismatched eyes wide and unblinking like he’s all of a sudden seeing Dream for the first time.

“You’re... really different, you know,” he says, sounding a little rueful. “I like this version of you a lot better.”

Dream doesn’t have anything to say to that, really, and Ranboo sighs, redirects after a moment.

“What you said... that’s all I’ve ever wanted this world to be too, you know. I, um… I make friends pretty easily. I care about a lot of people here. But they always wind up hurting and fighting and _betraying_ each other, because we have all these stupid countries and wars and nobody can ever help picking _sides_. But we can’t… you can’t _make_ people get along, either, and you can’t make people listen. People always fight, you can’t just stop them. That doesn’t work. It _never_ works. It never-”

He cuts himself off abruptly, shakes his head hard. “…Sorry. I get kinda… stuck in loops thinking about this stuff, sometimes.”

“No, I get it,” Dream says, tipping his head back to stare up at the sky. “Of course you never want to hurt your friends.”

He hurt _all_ of his friends, it seems like. He still doesn’t know how that happened, why it happened, who he would’ve had to become to be alright with it.

Ranboo huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. You’ve heard- you probably know about L’Manburg, right? Someone must’ve told you.”

Dream thinks of a massive crater, melted down to bedrock, and fights down the urge to wince. “I know a little.”

“It’s funny, because- you know, I lived there. It was my home,” Ranboo says. There’s no accusation in his voice, and Dream doesn’t really know what to make of that. “It was a lot of people’s homes. But it was just a place, and it was a place that a lot of people got hurt over, so maybe it’s better that it’s gone- but then again, a lot of people were hurt by it burning, too.”

He sighs, shakes his head. “I don’t know. There’s no right answer for any of this. It’s never that easy.”

“I’m going to try and fix it,” Dream says. “You were listening, right, when I talked to Tubbo and Tommy? Did you hear that part?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I did. I, uh. I have a hard time believing it, if I’m honest,” Ranboo says, ducking his head. “It feels like- I mean, by the time I joined, everything was already… I can’t really imagine a version of this world where everything’s perfect and everyone’s happy, I don’t think. But maybe if it’s just a little _better,_ if enough choices are made differently… maybe that’ll be enough. I don’t know.”

“Maybe,” Dream says, pushing himself to his feet and looking in the direction of the road. They’d been talking long enough that Sapnap and George were probably getting worried, by now. “I don’t know either. But I have to try, anyways.”

He takes two steps, then pauses in his tracks, a thought occurring. “Hey, maybe if I get it right, next time you join, it’ll be a world you can be happy in.”

“That’d be nice,” Ranboo says, and Dream glances back at him for just long enough to see him smile, a little sad and a little thoughtful. “Maybe then we can be friends for real.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Dream says, and means it.

* * *

_Other Dream:  
Going to try and fix the things he broke? His eyes say a lot  
A friend(?), maybe, someday  
Chose everyone  
I hope it works._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be honest this is mostly me being mega self-indulgent because i'm so fascinated by all the similarities and connections between dream and ranboo as characters, but its my fic and i do what i want! 
> 
> i've been super happy with the response to this fic, so thank you all! i've noticed sometimes there isn't a ton of engagement with fics in this fandom, so it makes me really delighted that a lot of people have been commenting on and interacting with this fic especially, because its both my favorite and the longest ive written for dream smp so far.


	4. the lone and level sands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a distant crash, somewhere in the house. Dream goes tense on instinct, sees Sapnap lay a hand on the hilt of his sword, but when no other sounds of trouble follow, they both relax slightly. 
> 
> There’s a long, tense stretch of silence, and then the door creaks open. 
> 
> Bad looks _exhausted_.

Dream isn’t lost.

This is _his_ world. It would be really stupid for him to get lost in it, especially when he would _swear_ he hadn’t even gone that far from the road to talk to Ranboo, and he shouldn’t even be _able_ to get lost here...

/ Sapnap whispered to Dream: dude where are you  
/ Sapnap whispered to Dream: you ok?

/ Dream: yeah im fine

/ Sapnap: did you get lost or something

/ Dream: no  
/ Dream: im on my way back

…He might be a _little_ lost.

It’s frustrating. He would’ve sworn he knew where he was going. It’s almost like someone is messing with him, tugging him off course- or, rather, like the course itself is shifting around him, the forest reorienting to keep him from going where he wants to go, and as soon as that thought crosses his mind he sighs, stops in his tracks, and frowns up at the sky.

“Really?” he asks, a little irritably. “Come on.”

The world, unsurprisingly, does not answer.

Dream glances down the path. The trees are thinning up ahead, so he must be nearly out of the woods, one way or another.

“Something I should see up there?” he guesses aloud. “Fine.”

He’s not really sure what he’s expecting to see when he ducks out of the trees. Someone else he doesn’t recognize, maybe, or someone he does; he doesn’t know which option is worse.

What he finds, instead, is a fortress.

It _looms_ up out of a shallow bay, walls built of carved blackstone, the corners crowned by high watchtowers and the walls lined with steel bars. It’s an impressive build, to say the least, but he can’t shake the feeling that it looks _wrong_ , a massive, imposing silhouette dominating the surrounding landscape, pitch black walls seeming to swallow all the sunlight that touches them.

He replaces his mask over his eyes and approaches it, cautious. There’s a collection of chests, furnaces and crafting tables arranged nearby in what looks to be a workstation; and, he registers a heartbeat later, someone is rummaging around in them.

His encounter with Tommy rises unbidden to mind, and he’s just about to turn and go before whoever it is can notice him when a familiar green-haired head, obscured by a gas mask and welding goggles, sticks up from behind the chests. “Oh, Dream! Hey!”

It’s… the first time today someone’s seemed happy to see him, and that alone is enough to make him stop and smile a little, before he can help it, even as he wonders at it. “Hey, Sam.”

Sam stands up fully, propping an elbow on the top row of chests and brushing redstone dust off of his gloves. “Didn’t know you’d be dropping by today. There’s not much more to show at the moment, but the prison’s almost done. Just gotta go mining for some last resources and add a finishing touch, and then she’ll be all finished.”

…Prison. It’s a _prison_.

Why would there be a _prison_ in his world? Why would Sam be _reporting_ to him about it? There’s ice forming in his stomach, a freezing sort of feeling in his gut.

“Dream?”

“Ah- sorry, just thinking,” Dream says, tilting his head back to look up at the imposing blackstone walls, hoping the mess of confusion and dawning horror he’s feeling doesn’t show in his voice. “It looks… really impressive.”

“Damn right!” Sam says, leaning back against the stack of chests to look up at his towering creation, a clear note of pride in his voice. “Nothing less than the best from me, you know that. Gotta make sure you get your money’s worth, right?”

His _money’s_ worth?

…Sam is his _friend_. Not his- what, employee? Contractor? What is this?

“Yeah,” Dream manages, and all of a sudden abruptly wants to be anywhere else. Wants to be back with George and Sapnap, or at the very least away from Sam, smiling behind his mask like nothing’s wrong, and out of the prison’s lingering shadow. “Uh- I was looking for Bad, actually. Do you know where he is?”

He can see Sam blink behind his googles. “You checked the mansion yet?” he asks, pointing with a thumb off to one side, towards another nearby section of woodland. When Dream squints, he can see a white quartz rooftop sticking up past the treetops. “I think he’s been spending most of his time there lately, with Skeppy. Especially ever since- well. He’s probably there.”

“Gotcha. Thanks, Sam,” Dream says, turns away, then glances back. “And, uh. Feel free to take a break, if you need it.”

Sam just chuckles and waves him off, and he goes.

A prison. A _prison. Why?_ What could he possibly need a _prison_ for, on this world, built for his friends to explore and create and play?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand.

/ Dream whispered to Sapnap: sorry, ran into somebody  
/ Dream whispered to Sapnap: i got directions, meet you at bad’s

* * *

It’s only been an hour at most since they briefly separated, but it’s still a relief to see Sapnap and George again.

When they arrive, Dream is sitting on the steps of Bad and Skeppy’s mansion, mask pushed up onto his forehead, sharpening his borrowed axe. It’s not really necessary- the edge is already honed to razor-sharpness, and if all goes well he probably won’t even use it- but the repetitive action is familiar in this world where nothing else is, and it’s reassuring.

(Not entirely true- George smiles when he sees him, and Sapnap waves and quickens his pace, and at least that’s familiar, too.)

“Deal with whatever you had to do?” Sapnap asks.

“Yeah, it’s taken care of,” Dream answers, climbing to his feet and hanging the axe from his belt again. “Somebody, uh… wanted to talk.”

George frowns, tips his head. “Who?”

“Ranboo.”

“Ranboo?” George echoes. “I didn’t think he even really knew you.”

Dream thinks about ‘ _I never knew you like this’_ and ‘ _I like this version of you a lot better_ ,’ and doesn’t say anything at all as they approach the front doors.

The mansion is huge and sleek, so bright white it’s a little hard to look at beneath the early afternoon sun, massive glass windows stretching all along its front, a spacious and well-kept courtyard spreading out before it. There’s a doorbell, and Dream only hesitates a moment before reaching out and pressing it.

There’s a distant crash, somewhere in the house. Dream goes tense on instinct, sees Sapnap lay a hand on the hilt of his sword, but when no other sounds of trouble follow, they both relax slightly.

There’s a long, tense stretch of silence, and then the door creaks open.

Bad looks _exhausted_.

His eyes are dimmer than Dream thinks he’s ever seen them, only faintly glowing out of the black void of his face. He looks _washed-out_ , almost, the swallowing shadow and rich red of his robes and the void-skin beneath seeming less vibrant and saturated than usual. One clawed hand wraps around the doorframe, apparently for support, and he has to blink at them for a moment before recognition seemingly registers.

“Oh… Dream?” he says after a moment, scrubbing at his face with his free hand. “What are you doing here?”

Dream hesitates, glances over at George and Sapnap for help, but for once, they seem just as lost as he is. Whatever this is- if it’s anything at all, it could be nothing, could just be that Bad didn’t sleep well last night, but the instincts in the back of his head that haven’t steered him wrong yet are whispering it’s _not_ \- they don’t know about it, either.

“Bad,” he says, concern mixing with a note of caution in his voice, “are you… okay?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine,” Bad promises quickly, eyes brightening slightly, a degree of life creeping back into his posture. “Just- haven’t been sleeping much lately. But I feel fine. Um- oh, gosh, where are my manners. Would you like to come in?”

“…Yeah,” Dream says, still feeling just slightly unsettled for reasons he can’t really put a name on. “I have, uh- something pretty important to talk to you about.”

“Well, then come in! Always nice to have visitors,” Bad says, stepping to one side and pulling the door the rest of the way open. Dream notices him rubbing at his eyes again as he steps past into the foyer, and for a moment he thinks he catches a flash of sickly red behind his friend’s fingers.

“Surprised Skeppy hasn’t gotten on your case for the not sleeping thing,” George notes lightly. “Are we gonna have to call him in?”

Bad twitches, a full-body tremor that only lasts a blink before it’s done- Dream isn’t sure if George and Sapnap even notice it- before glancing over his shoulder with a smile. “Skeppy’s not around right now, actually! Guess that must be why I haven’t been taking such good care of myself, huh? You’re right, he’ll be mad when he gets back.”

_He’s been spending most of his time there lately, with Skeppy_ , Sam had said.

...Sapnap is frowning.

Something is wrong here.

“So- sorry, what _did_ you want to talk to me about?” Bad asks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you any time, of course.”

Dream hesitates, then shrugs to himself and bites the bullet. “Bad, do you know anything about time travel?”

Bad nearly trips over his own tail, stops in place and wheels around. “About- wait, _what?_ ”

The baffled shock in his voice is reassuring, almost- it’s maybe the first time since they arrived that he’s sounded truly _himself_.

“Time travel,” Dream repeats.

“You know, the sort of thing that could maybe, like, lead to somebody waking up a year into the future they fucked up,” Sapnap chimes in.

“Language,” Bad says, almost reflexively, but his eyes are on Dream, sliding from the iron axe at his hip to the mask carelessly shoved up onto his forehead, seeming truly _focused_ for the first time today. Dream isn’t surprised at how quickly he puts the pieces together; Bad’s always been sharp. “…Dream?”

Dream waves a little. “Hi, Bad. Um… so, things have happened-” he starts, and doesn’t get any further before Bad is hugging him, all at once, burying his face in his hoodie and muttering something under his breath that Dream can’t quite make out.

Dream’s voice dies in his throat, and after a moment of hesitant uncertainty, he returns the hug. Bad is shaking, tremors running uncontrollably across his shoulders and down his back, and Dream-

Dream just keeps finding broken things, the further he follows his own footsteps. Most of them he’s been able to understand, a little- he’d gotten partial explanations for the cold fury in Tommy’s eyes, the anxious tremor in Ranboo’s hands, enough to at least see the outline of the hurt inflicted.

But he has no idea what’s wrong here. No idea where to even start.

It’s some minutes before Bad manages to collect himself, visibly hauling his composure back into place with what must be a tremendous amount of effort. He steps back eventually, scrubs at his eyes with a sleeve, the claws of his free hand still hooked into the sleeve of Dream’s hoodie.

“Come on,” he says, quiet, and leads them down the hall and off into a small room lined with bookshelves. A library- Dream can see the enchanting table tucked into one corner.

There’s a soft, well-worn leather sofa tucked against one wall; Bad drops onto it like his strings have all been cut, and Dream and George follow suit, Sapnap leaning against one of the armrests.

“Okay,” Bad says, clasping his hands in his lap. “Okay. Um… tell me everything.”

Dream hesitates, still, because- “Bad, _are_ you okay?”

It’s not that he hasn’t seen Bad upset before. They’ve known each other for years, and Bad’s always been kind of easily riled-up. But he hasn’t seen this before, the dimness in his friend’s eyes and the shaking of his shoulders that he can’t seem to stop.

“I’m…” Bad pauses, takes a deep breath, then nods. “It’s a really long story, and it’s- it’s not really important right now. Just… tell me what happened. Please?”

And so they do. Dream does, mostly, and he knows he doesn’t tell it well, because his chest still freezes up when he thinks of the cold rage in Tommy’s eyes and the colder blankness in Tubbo’s, but George and Sapnap chip in for the parts he doesn’t know or can’t explain, mostly, and it helps.

He needs his friends for so many things.

“So we were hoping,” he says, “that if I can go back to- when I came from, a year ago, I might be able to stop this whole- _everything_ from ever happening. Get a better future for everyone.”

He tries not to sound too hopeful or too desperate, but- this is _his_ mess, and he has to fix it. He’s _going_ to fix it, one way or another. He has to. He has to, he has to, he has to.

“And we figured if anyone would know how to do that,” he finishes, “it would probably be you.”

“We know it’s a big ask,” Sapnap says, a little apologetic. “I mean, we still don’t even know how he _got_ here.”

Bad doesn’t acknowledge him for a moment. He’s looking very intently at Dream, white eyes narrowed in the thoughtful way that always means he’s thinking hard. It’s an expression Dream knows well, but he hasn’t had it directed at _him_ often, and it makes him shift a little uncomfortably and wish he was wearing his mask.

“Well,” Bad says eventually, sitting back a little. “ _Normally_ I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that. Time travel is… it’s the sort of thing that even if it _was_ possible, it would take someone- or something- immensely powerful. I certainly never could. But here, it’s already- the hard part is already done. You’re here, and you’re not _supposed_ to be, so… _in theory_ , it should be possible to just break what’s keeping you here and send you back.”

“In _theory,_ ” Sapnap echoes, sounding doubtful. “You’re not _sure_?”

“Wh- _well I’ve never done anything like this before, Sapnap!_ ” Bad snaps, and his indignant tone is so reassuringly familiar it makes Dream snicker. “This isn’t something that _happens! Ever!_ ”

George frowns. “So you don’t know why he’s- you know, here?”

Bad pauses. “It’s- I’m not sure. My first guess… would have been Dream? _Our_ Dream, I mean, present Dream. There are no other users who could have close to this kind of power. Not me, not Phil or anyone. But that doesn’t- really make sense, does it? I mean…” He chuckles a little sadly, rubs the back of his neck. “He doesn’t… he’s got everything he wanted.”

There’s something heavy and ugly that always settles in Dream’s throat whenever they talk about _their_ Dream, that person who isn’t him but is, the person who put that look in Tommy’s eyes and that note in Tubbo’s voice and slagged a country down to bedrock. This person who isn’t him but could be, and he can _see_ how it could be; he knows himself well enough to know that, and he hates it.

“So my other guess is… um. Well.” There’s an hesitant twist to Bad’s mouth, but there’s no uncertainty at all in the way he looks up and says, “Dream, you’re not human, right.”

It’s not a question, really, so Dream doesn’t say _yes_ , but his silence drags out long enough that he’s sure its its own answer.

“Uh,” Dream finally says. George and Sapnap have both gone very quiet, and he’s not sure if that’s because they knew or because they didn’t. “Is that… relevant?”

“…Yeah,” Bad says, and he’s still _looking_ at Dream, like if he stares for long enough he’ll be able to see whatever’s buried down beneath skin and blood and bone, the light and fabric of the world. “I think it probably really is. Because, you know, there’s no _person_ , no user who makes sense to have done this, but- what else would be able to control the time and space of the world so completely? What else could it be? I know you know, if you think about it.”

And, when he thinks about it, Dream does.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Sapnap says, signaling a timeout with his hands. “Can we back up like, five steps? Ten? Whatever gets us back to a place us mere humans over here can comprehend? _What?_ ”

“Oh!” Bad says with a start, a little guiltily. “Sorry. Um-“

“It’s the world,” Dream says, looking down at the quartz blocks that compose the floor, the dirt beneath them, the stone and coal and magma going down, down, down. “That’s what you mean, right?”

It makes sense, when he thinks about it, when he remembers waking up next to a gaping, bombed-out hole in the skin of the world, wandering through the wreckages of ruined cities and shattered friendships; through a world that was _hurting_ , falling to pieces because of all Dream did and didn’t do.

It makes sense.

“You would know better than me,” Bad says carefully. “What do you think?”

And Dream- well. He can’t ask, not in the way he’d ask a person, because the world is a world and it is unknowable; but Dream is Dream and they’re two halves of a whole, and so he knows it anyways.

“I think you’re right,” he says, or hears himself say.

The world is hurting and it’s hurting because of him, and the world is Dream’s but Dream is also the world’s, as it always has been and always will be. Of course it would bring him here to fix his mistakes, to change his fate, to heal the hurt that stretches down to bone and bedrock.

And he’d resolved to fix this, and he will.

And he thinks he knows how, now, with the world whispering in his ears.

“I think I can fix it.”

“You can?” George asks, and he sounds so disbelieving, so desperately _hopeful_. “You really-“

“I think so.” Dream looks up at them. “I don’t know if I can really explain how, but… I think I can do it.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for, then?” Sapnap says, digging fingers into the couch, shoulders tense like he’s waiting for some trick, some twist of the knife, for the carpet to be torn out from under his feet.

“Wait. Wait, Dream. Before you do- whatever you need to do, I want you to promise me something, first,” Bad says, sounding all at once deadly serious, desperation threading through his words. He takes Dream by the shoulders, white eyes flaring like sunspots.

“If this works, and you go back, and change things… I need you to keep an eye out for something… red. An egg. You’ll know it when you see it. And as soon as you do, before it can grow, I want you to _kill it at the roots_. I don’t care what you have to do to get rid of it. Just do it. _Promise me._ ”

It’s all Dream can do to nod and promise, because even if he doesn’t fully understand, he can read the hurt and grief and frantic hope on his friend’s face and in his voice just fine, and that’s enough. Bad nods back, apparently satisfied, and lets him go.

It’s quiet, for a moment. Dream doesn’t-

He doesn’t really want to go, even though he hates this future so much it makes him sick, and even though he can see the open door now, in the back of his mind and in the floor of the world. He’s not sure what will happen when he steps through it. He’s not used to that- not knowing. He’s never liked not knowing.

“…Do you think we’ll remember?” George asks after a moment. “You know, not Dream, but- the rest of us. If it works.”

“Probably not,” Bad says, and Dream thinks about Tommy, and hopes he’s right.

“Well, then,” Sapnap says. “Any last words, boys?”

Dream looks around at them, for a moment. George and Sapnap and Bad, and of course it’s them with him, here and now, at the end and the beginning. Of course it is.

His friends. He’d rewrite the world for them, anytime.

There’s a version of him somewhere who forgot that. Who forgot everything important.

He’ll try and do better, this time. Try to stay as close to human as he can get. Try to be kind.

He can do that much, at least.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, and then, because he may as well, because he hasn’t said it yet, because he needs to say it, because everything is coming to an end, “I love you. See you on the other side.”

He closes his eyes, and behind them, the world is waiting.

// reset?

// yes

// corrupted file deleted

// backup restored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!! okay!! that's the penultimate chapter done! all that's left after this is the epilogue, and i'm not entirely sure when that'll be done because i wanted to write it before i posted this, and then i realized i wasn't entirely sure _how_ i even wanted to do the epilogue but i really wanted to post this chapter, so.... yeah. 
> 
> something relevant to the last few lines: the original name of this story as suggested by my friend, before i had to cut it in half for length, was _dreamt you a kinder future (have i told you i love you?)_
> 
> i understand the latter half of this chapter might be very confusing, because it's based on my highly specific and indulgent headcanons about dream and the world and the way they're connected, but to put it briefly, i think of it like a symbiotic relationship? that is, you can't have one without the other, and dream's actions and the destruction he wrought both to the land itself and the people in it were _hurting_ the world in a very real way, so the world made a desperate last-ditch attempt to avert the entire timeline by yanking a younger and kinder dream forward to show him what could happen if he doesn't avert it. and it worked!!
> 
> i know some people commented saying they wanted to see a confrontation between past and present dream, and it's definitely fun to think about! but to be honest i never intended to include current/canon dream in this fic as an actual character. given that the story is all about past dream discovering the sort of person he could become and the sort of damage he could do if he doesn't take active strides to stay human and be kind, i think it's more fitting to have canon!dream just existing as a phantom over his shoulder; a potential future to always be wary of. 
> 
> thanks so much for reading!!


	5. epilogue: king of kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the world exhales.

_And-_

“Need help?” Dream asks, leaning back against a tree with his arms folded, grinning beneath his mask.

“Fuck off, Dream!” Tommy shouts over his shoulder immediately, predictably enough. “I don’t need any help!”

Dream nods. “So you’re getting your ass kicked by a sheep on purpose, then.”

Tommy makes an incoherent sound and whirls around to glare at him, indignant, lead still clutched tightly in one hand. “I am _not_ \- it’s just _stubborn, okay!_ ”

Dream snorts. “Why don’t you just go find a different one?”

Tommy shakes his head immediately, crossing his arms decisively. “Can’t. It’s Wilbur’s.”

“Wilbur’s… sheep?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, like it’s obvious.

Dream squints at the sheep. “…Why’s it blue?”

“I don’t know! It was blue when he found it! And now he’s all, like, _attached_ and stuff, so I stole it, as a joke, right, and then the plan was to bring it back after he’d freaked out a bit, but the dumb thing won’t _come with,_ and Wil’s going _spare!_ ”

Dream laughs. Tommy goes a shade redder.

“Shut _up!_ Are you gonna help or not?”

Dream grins. “I thought you said you didn’t need my help.”

“I _don’t_ , but if you’re just gonna _sit around_ like a big useless _idiot_ -“

“Fine, fine, if you insist,” Dream agrees, exaggeratedly agreeable, pushing off of the tree trunk and walking over. “So where’s Wilbur now?”

_-the-_

“So, um,” Ranboo says, stepping out of the way of a stray arrow. “Is it always like this?”

At his side, Dream shrugs, hands in his hoodie pocket. “Nah. I mean, people start fights a lot, mostly over stupid stuff, because this place is full of idiots,” he says, and doesn’t even really bother trying to hide the fondness in his voice. “But everybody’s still friends at the end of the day, and they’re pretty great once you get to know ‘em.”

“Oh,” Ranboo says, sounding a little relieved. “That’s good. I, uh, don’t handle conflict all that well.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dream says, nudging him with an elbow. “You’ll fit right in. You already know some people here, right?”

“Um- yeah, a few. That reminds me, though- I’ve been meaning to ask,” Ranboo says, tapping fingers anxiously against his thigh. “Not that I’m not glad to be here, but, uh- why _did_ you invite me?”

“Just had a feeling we’d get along,” Dream says easily, and nods towards the still-ongoing fight. “So, want to help me break these idiots up?”

_-world-_

“Hey,” George says, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling, frowning just slightly. “Do you guys ever get, like- what’s it called. When you feel like you’ve done something before.”

“Deja vu?” Dream asks, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Yeah, that.”

“Uh, sometimes. Not really.”

“Sapnap?”

“Huh?” Sapnap blinks, looks over at them. “Oh, yeah, I guess I’ve had that. Why?”

George shrugs a little. “Just been having it sometimes lately. Like, sometimes I see something I know I’ve never seen before, but it seems familiar anyways? It’s not _bad_ , it’s just kinda weird.”

Sapnap frowns a little, looking thoughtful. “Huh. Yeah, now that you say it, I’ve had that a bunch lately.” He pauses, then grins. “Hey, maybe we’re stuck in a time loop.”

Dream snorts. “No, we’re not.”

“We could be! You don’t know!”

“I’m pretty sure!”

“If we were,” George says absently, raising his voice slightly to drown Dream’s immediate objection, “how do you think we’d get out of it?”

Sapnap looks thoughtful. “By doing everything right?” he guesses. “That’s how it goes in movies and stuff.”

“Hm.” George folds his hands behind his head, thinks for a moment. “Dream’s right. We’re not in a time loop.”

Dream rolls his eyes, then blinks. “ _Duh_ \- wait, why?”

George shrugs. “Well, cause everything’s already alright. Isn’t it?”

And it’s the three of them, hanging out at an impromptu sleepover, Dream’s mask forgotten somewhere between the couch cushions, some bad movie they’ve all long since stopped paying attention to on the screen, and there’s really nowhere he’d rather be.

“...Yeah,” Dream says, and smiles, and means it. “Everything’s good.”

_-exhales._

//save

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO that's a wrap! thank you so much for reading, and i hope you enjoyed!
> 
> sorry it took me so long to get this relatively tiny chapter out! but if you enjoyed this fic, you will very likely enjoy the other dream-centric fic i've been working on in the interrim (with a fantastic co-writer!), in which season three dream gets broken out of torture prison by dreamxd and dropped off with techno phil and ranboo to get bullied-slash-rehabilitated into becoming a marginally less awful person instead, so check out [call this world home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29738244/chapters/73144398) if that sounds like your jam.
> 
> and again, thanks so much for reading! this is the first chapter fic i've actually finished in quite some time and i had a blast with it, and i'm delighted so many of you seemed to enjoy it as much as i did.


End file.
